Hello Wonderful Friends of The Light.
Why cant we be from the same village and live without the desire to move around so much?
I miss you.
A list:
Hospitality
Gas Huffing
Glue Sniffing
Husslers
Sugar
Drunks
Intellectuals
French Husslers
French Businessmen
Mollusks
Pastries
Goat Heads
Tobacco
Sugar
Jew Hating
Sugar
Haggling
Fighting
Gentle Men
Crazy Men
Violent Men
Hammam
Sugar
Sensitive Men
Men
Fresh Bread
Tea
Tajine
CousCous
Tobacco
Sugar
Purple
Living with Hippies
Forty Five Days in Essaouira
Working as "Professional Musician"
Hippies from Poland, Slovakia, Spain
Playing in Local Bars with Hippies
Playing in Local Bars with Moroccans
Two Houses
I was Landlord of second house
I am a landlord and a professional Musician and an American
Tobacco
Sugar
Mint Tea
"In Morocco Men Think and Women Work"
Pointy Orange Slippers of Leather
I am tougher now
I dont take no bullshit
I have taken some
Now I dont take any
I am a Landlord
Poets
Curiosity
Algerian Woman Plays Flute Beautifully
American Politics
Moroccan Men and European Women
Wood, Thuya
Smells: Wood, Harrira, Mint, Dust
Yogurt
Camels
Rocks, Stones
Sometimes I am From Estonia
Next: Sahara, then the Atlas Mountains, then the North.
Boats and Trains,
[_________] Olaf Mohammed Mary Worland [_____]
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| | date | Mon, Aug 4, 2008 at 6:51 AM | | subject | this is what is happening now | | mailed-by | yahoo.com | | signed-by | yahoo.com |
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Hello my Worthy Friends,
I, having some trouble finding something to read in a country where the first and second languages are neither one in which my comprending brain operates, have read which ever that book might be that happens to be written in that bright language of ours, English.
I English.
So.
I picked up Silas Marner by George Eliot which is a small lie on the part of Mary Ann Evans. I was reading the short biography of the happy author and came upon a disturbing quote. F.R. Leavis is an idiot as far as I can gather wood for the idiot woodpile using the kindling of the one and only faggot of words he has offered me through the happenstance of this book by Mary Ann being the one and only available to me in th eonly bookstore i could find.
He says:
(George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans) is) "not as transcendantly great as Tolstoy, but great, and great in the same way."
Does this staement do anything other than to completely dissovle the fundamental shifting particles of understanding in that word "great" and those two people, Tolstoy and Mary? Intending to elucidate the "greatness" of Mary, F.R. pulls the rug of meaning out from under his most important guest, that word, great.
What is transcendantly great? And how does its (great's) relativity help us to understand anything about the intended subject, Mary.
I see this as a post-pagan attack on the immaculate conception and the greatness of the Old Codger Radio Program which you should be listening to as often as possible.
Do not hesitate, just listen
[____] Mary Eliot Ann Henry Olaf.
P.S. what is my password for my gmail account?
Posts
1 comment:
Great Olaf! Estonia really is the best place to say you're from. If one doubts, you can always reassure without research and appear native, like this: "And did you know we don't have a monarch?" Or "The [insert nationality] think my country's affordable." Or "Americans probably assume we have polar bears!"
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